Acceptance
by enneh
Summary: Filler-style musings of how Gaara, Temari and Kankuro became closer as siblings. Begins just after the Chuunin exams. Written as close to canon as possible. No pairings.
1. Chapter 1

This story will be told in varying points of view, switching between Temari, Kankuro and Gaara. I've always wondered about how they became closer, so I thought I'd write about it. Subject to headcanon and influenced by the anime and manga both.

Rated T for later content, although it's nothing beyond mild violence/blood/gore.

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_Temari, Kankuro... I'm so sorry..._

_Uh, well – it's okay, I guess._

* * *

'Do you think we should stop for the night?'

'Do you think we're being followed?'

It was a fair question. Kankuro glanced at the clearing that had caught his attention. The trees of the endless forest were now few and far between, the small crop they stood amongst lending leafy coverage over the cool grass. Although the moon was full, there was little light to see by. Their ragged breathing disturbed the silence of the night. He didn't look it, but with the sand gourd on his back, Gaara was heavy. They'd managed to retrieve it during their escape, and even though the extra weight was unwelcome, Kankuro didn't dare think of leaving it behind.

'Maybe not this far out,' he offered, shifting to see Temari through the darkness.

She gave a swift nod, taking her hand away from the tree trunk that had been her support. Her posture was stiff, her body still gripped tense with unforgotten fear. In the next second she was on the ground, conducting a brief examination of the area. Even this close to the edge of Konoha's territory, there was the possibility of their shinobi patrolling the forest. And who could blame them after the attack earlier in the day? Kankuro shifted his weight, supporting his younger brother's unconscious body as he prepared to make the descent. He appreciated his older sister's strength, relied on her as the main support in their group. Despite being afraid, she was holding herself together well. He hoped the same could be said for him.

Although he hadn't been around to see the full possession, he had more than enough memories to fill in the gaps. His belief that the sheltered Genin of Konoha were yet to know true terror was one he still held strong. Perhaps the earlier ambush had given them a small taste of what it was like to have your home torn apart from the inside. The villagers of Konoha would wake up to leftover debris in the streets, the emerging deaths of innocents. Suna had seen that many times more. Really, there was no comparison. Konoha could meet any threat with solidarity; they were all on the same team. Kankuro often had to pick sides between his home village and his own brother. It was easy to choose who to direct his sympathies towards. But that didn't ease his confliction.

Hearing his apology only made it worse. Gaara had fallen unconscious some time ago. It was hard to know exactly when – the main focus was putting as much distance as possible between themselves and the village of Konoha. Kankuro could count on one hand the amount of times he'd seen his younger brother asleep. It never seemed to happen of his own will. So why did nobody take advantage when it happened? Why, instead of putting a permanent end to everything that tormented Suna, did they wait for him to wake up? Not that he could criticise. Lowering Gaara to the floor with care, Kankuro was mimicking those to have had this opportunity before him. _The sand would probably still protect him anyway. _An age-old excuse. Maybe once, an age-old regret.

Temari had disarmed herself, her weapons lying on the ground at her feet as she enjoyed the absence of their weight with a big stretch. She helped to remove the gourd from Gaara's back, rolling it a little way across the damp grass whilst Kankuro worked on easing the semi-permanent ache that had taken residence in his shoulders. The night was pleasant, nothing compared to the brumal temperatures left after sundown in Suna. It was much-needed after the day's exertions. His chakra had been severely depleted, his whole body now set with the muscle-stiffening tension of being overworked. Sleep would be well-deserved, but they couldn't get complacent. Without Baki around to take the position of watch, he thought they would have to rely on their usual night-owl.

He tilted his head to the side in contemplation, debating the pros and cons of disturbing his brother's sleep. For the most part, Kankuro preferred him that way. At least he was quiet and stuck in one place. Hands on hips, he decided to ask his sister first. She was already looking at him; even in the dark, he could tell she was concerned.

'I was thinking we could wake h—'

'No.'

The word left in an abrupt whisper, her eyes widening with alarm. She straightened, forcing herself to appear more casual.

'If he's out of it we should leave him.'

'But if would probably be better if –'

'I'll keep watch,' she said.

Kankuro hesitated. 'You sure?'

'Positive.'

She gave a wan smile, closing the conversation by turning her back on him to arrange her possessions. Kankuro pulled his hat off his head. He knew better than to argue with her. Right now, he didn't even have the energy. There were so many worries in his mind that he could barely keep track of them all. The last thing they needed was another reason for group disharmony. The time for arguing, for any discussion, would be after they'd touched down in Suna.

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Short chapter to start. Thank you so much for reading~

Oh, and I know the gourd is of Gaara's own making, but I needed it to be a physical item for reasons ahah...


	2. Chapter 2

Temari was a light sleeper. It would be a disadvantage to her as a shinobi if she was anything but. She woke to a darkening of the sky, the lightest snap of grass broken underfoot. Startled, she opened her eyes and began to lift herself up to a seated position, automatically reaching for her nearest weapon. The vibrant greens and the warmth of the air told her it was daytime already. Her first look might have been directed to the leafy boughs above to see if it was their shelter that had covered her in so much shade. But she saw his feet. Before that, felt his presence. It was like a weight bearing down on the atmosphere. Her heart felt like it was spluttering between beats. He was staring at her, unmoving. Seeing her younger brother from a lower level made him appear sterner than usual.

'Gaara,' she exclaimed.

She was on her feet before he had a chance to answer. As usual, he had little to say. The moment shouldn't have been awkward; she was used to his quietness. His features were set with his regular brand of intense, silent scrutiny, only the expression appeared somewhat softer. Perhaps it was the aftermath of recent events, Temari told herself.

'Good morning,' she said, as if testing her voice.

She knew how forced it sounded. It was hard to tell if he was as displeased with the greeting as she was because he didn't react. After what felt like hours passing, he blinked, diverting his gaze to the floor. His hair was damp, his skin clear of the blood that had covered it the night before. There were times when she would look at him and see the child he was supposed to be. Rare times, but they happened nonetheless.

'Morning.'

Although his tone was reluctant, it was more than she was expecting. Temari thought it best to stop the conversation there, if she could even call it one. But it was the kind of conversation she liked best. Quick and to the point.

She moved away from the gourd she had been lying beside, absently watching as he lifted it from the floor to stand it upright. The slight trembling of his body with the exertion of movement betrayed his weakness. Temari knew all of them had been put through their paces, but seeing Gaara injured was something else. She thought it was just as well that he'd cleaned himself up a little. Although his shirt was still bloodstained, their father would expect him to return unscathed except for the wound he'd taken in the arena.

She was sure that, by now, the word of their failure to take down Konoha had reached home. Whether they returned would depend on their own resourcefulness. They had yet to reach the sands of Suna, and they had no rations or water to speak of. It was a long journey as well. Probably about time they left. She looked for Kankuro, expecting to see him still asleep in the grass. The space was empty – even his gear was missing.

'Where's Kankuro?' she voiced aloud, examining the whole clearing.

It wasn't long before she was met with her younger brother again, who stared impassively as he worked at strapping the gourd to his back. A spark of irritation ignited in her chest, leaving her throat in something similar to a growl. Kankuro knew better than to wander off alone. She knew that he could be out looking for water or relieving himself, but she had two options: wait in the clearing with Gaara, or go off to find her saner, more rationally minded sibling. Gaara had been polite so far, but he was always polite. It was a wonder where he'd picked up his manners, and more than a little disconcerting given how quickly he could abandon them. Looking for Kankuro was definitely the safer option, and she could trust that Gaara would stay in one place if left to his own devices. She could at least give him credit for having more sense than his elder brother when it came to being responsible in foreign territory.

Besides, Temari had no qualms with leaving the monster by himself. He was the sibling she didn't have to worry for. He fended for himself out in the desert all of the time. But whilst she didn't have to worry for him, there was plenty of room in her mind to worry _about_ him. Over the years, she'd seen countless shinobi suffocated and crushed by the rivers of sand Gaara commanded. She had walked the ruined streets after one of his rampages, helped to clear up the rubble left behind and pulled lifeless, cold bodies from beneath the debris. Even though the past six years had been fortunate enough not to have resulted in the death of another family member, Temari never let herself believe that such a thing was impossible. Not with how often herself and Kankuro had been threatened with death. They lived in fear of their brother every day. The thought of losing their lives to his aggression was never far from her mind. She couldn't sit around and wait for Kankuro's return even if she wanted to. She had to know he was safe.

Leaping up amongst the trees, she began to trace back the path they had taken to get to the clearing in the first place. She didn't think to measure the distance she was backtracking, only to keep a sharp lookout for any evidence of Kankuro's passing through. He wouldn't be hard to miss in his all-black suit, and with the Crow strapped to his back in all of that wrapping, he was easy to identify from a distance. Her eyes were trained on the full branches of the trees, the patches of grass and mud below. Above the thumping of her heart in her ears, there was nothing to hear except the rasping calls of birds and the cackle of cicadas. The scent of fresh foliage and woodland flora was almost suffocating. For a second, she was sure that a flash of blackness passed her vision, and so she brought herself to a swift halt. Balancing herself on the thin branch she had chosen to rest at, she almost teetered over the side at the sound of his voice calling her name.

'Hey, you're going the wrong way!'

Temari spun to face him, remaining in her place. He had leapt up into the trees to join her, oblivious as always. A riot of indignant rage and relieved terror tore at her insides. Whilst half of her wanted to scream at him until she lost her voice, the other half wanted to close the distance between them and grip him in a vice-like hug. The decision of which response to use came fast.

'Since when did you just take off on your own?' she yelled back, jumping ahead so that only one branch rested between them.

Kankuro showed her his canteen, no longer empty. The fabric cover was soaked with water, the contents sloshing against the inside of the flask.

'I filled yours, too,' he said.

Turning a little to the side, he showed the extra two bottles attached to the wrappings he used to keep the Crow concealed. Temari finally joined him, snatching her own canteen and lifting the stopper so that she could take a drink.

'Gaara was awake already, so I left him to keep watch.'

She swallowed a mouthful of the water, a sharp inhalation of shock dragging it into her lungs. It burned, a bout of hacking coughs arresting her for almost a whole minute. When she had calmed, Kankuro was staring at her with one eyebrow raised, one hand still holding his own canteen at chest-height whilst the other supported the puppet resting at his back.

'Is everything okay?' he asked.

Temari recognised the tone. He knew something wasn't right, he just didn't want to have to talk about it. Usually she would oblige him by stating that everything was fine. Now, she didn't feel like they had the luxury of being so flippant about the problem they were trying to avoid. Kankuro's way of dealing with it was to pretend it didn't exist. Whilst she had some skill at concealing her true feelings, Temari didn't think she could disguise her uneasiness at their situation like he could. That was, if he felt any uneasiness about it at all. She looked at him, still slightly stooped over from her coughing fit, the back of her right hand pressed to her mouth.

'How could you trust him with that?'

Kankuro clicked his tongue, 'C'mon, Temari,' he reasoned. 'He's always our watcher for the night.'

'But after a full possession?' she countered. 'Are you insane?'

Experience told them both that the hours after a full possession were never stable for Gaara. Whilst any other person could black out and benefit from the rest, the host of the Shukaku suffered further. Anyone would struggle to keep themselves conscious after such a depletion of chakra, but her youngest brother wasn't just anyone. Every time he slept, his psyche was being ripped apart by the monster within. What made it worse was his lack of inclination to fight off it's growing influence on his thoughts.

Chagrin at his mistake registered for no longer than a second. Kankuro tried to keep the conversation light-hearted.

'I'm not the one who's insane, remember?'

She couldn't reward him for his attempt at a joke. In a way, Temari was hurt that he didn't exercise more caution on her behalf. Would he have been just as frantic if _she_ had gone missing from the clearing? Something told her otherwise, but then this behaviour wasn't like her either. She had to admit to herself that the fear she'd felt the day before was still rattling her thoughts. Being back in Suna after a decent sleep and some good food would be enough to help her relax again, but whilst they were still in enemy territory with the pressing matter of their youngest sibling's sanity at the fore, there wasn't any guarantee they'd make it home. Right now, she needed her wits about her. Even if they were almost at their end.

'Look, I get it,' he said, dropping the jokes. 'The apology thing... was sudden. But ignoring it might aggravate him. We should just be the same team that left Suna for now. Let him make all of the first moves, like usual.'

'Right,' Temari agreed. 'But let's still be careful.'

He nodded, all serious before giving into a grin. 'Please, I'm always careful.'

The air suddenly felt lighter and she gave into a tired smile. Perhaps they would make it back alive. Kankuro turned on his heel, gesturing in the direction of the clearing. _That way?_ Temari nodded. She had to collect her things before they left this part of the woodland for good.

Not long after they began to travel, something caught Kankuro's attention. Whatever it was, it gave him a shock, as he stumbled on his landing. Ankle buckling beneath his weight, he fell from the thin branch like a stone, a sharp cry following his descent. Temari took the space as her own, leaning forwards to laugh at his clumsiness. The sound caught in her throat as she watched the sand engulf him.

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Thank you very much for reading~


	3. Chapter 3

The smile vanished from her face at the sight of the sand cloud that caught Kankuro's fall. He sat upright, appearing a mix between relieved and terrified as he was guided back up to the sturdy tree branches. Temari searched for Gaara's whereabouts, catching him directly opposite to where she was standing. She was sure that she would never develop the senses required to hear his approach before it was too late.

One hand outstretched, he brought Kankuro up to where he had been last before the fall. Once his feet were on the solid surface of the tree branch, the sand separated into wisps of isolated grains, returning to the open gourd that Gaara had fastened to his back.

_So much for being careful_.

He was using the main trunk of the tree to keep his balance, his breathing labored. For a moment, it looked like he was going to clutch his head in agony, only he forced his arm down by his side and pushed away from the trunk, wary of their eyes on him.

'Er, thanks,' Kankuro said.

Temari realised they had both been standing there, staring without saying a word. She didn't even notice she had been holding her breath until it left her lungs by force. The tension was alleviated, and reality began to seep back into the moment; somehow it was like being released from a genjutsu. There was no verbal answer. Gaara turned away from them both and leapt several branches ahead, disappearing into the distance just as his siblings thought to follow. They allowed themselves one look of confusion before letting it go.

She couldn't be sure how much of their conversation he'd heard, but Temari was more surprised by his appearance than anything else. For so long, she had believed that he didn't care if they lived or died. Kankuro's fall wasn't serious, so for Gaara to go out of his way with such a gesture was strange. As he continued onwards, Temari dropped down into the clearing to collect all of her possessions. The night before, it had been a relief to take the weight of the fan she carried off her shoulders. Now, it was a comfort to have it near.

'That was weird,' she heard Kankuro whisper.

They were back on the move, and he had leapt closer, his voice only just travelling between the speed of their movements and the surrounding forest noise.

'Do you think he heard us?' she whispered back.

'Probably,' he said, without pause. 'I'm all for being cautious, but—'

'But nothing,' Temari answered, with a severe stare to match.

For the past six years he'd threatened them innumerable times and endangered their lives. Gaara had told them in more ways than one that he cared little for their wellbeing. It was going to take a lot more than one saved fall to change that.

'He needs us to get him back home without us taking advantage of his weakened state,' Temari reminded him.

She felt the harshness of her words after they'd left her lips, and Kankuro's wounded expression was enough to make her embarrassed by them. But she couldn't waver. She was yet to think of any gesture of goodwill sent their way at Gaara's hands; now wasn't the time for Kankuro to be gullible. Apologies given during extremes were weightless. Anyone could be sorry at their limit. Gaara didn't really mean it and Kankuro was stupid not to realise it. If he didn't share her conviction, then that was his mistake. She looked away as he leapt off to the side, putting a greater distance between them. Now they were all focused on nothing else but getting home. Not that she knew why. Something told her that their problems wouldn't be any less of a burden there than they were out here.

* * *

Gaara stumbled. It felt like the forest was never-ending, with more thick tree trunks emerging over the horizon at each leap. The sun was at her midpoint, but the area was cool and drowned in shade. Kankuro didn't want to be the first to say anything. He looked back to see Temari directing a bewildered stare his way. It was as if someone had put them all on pause. Since they both realised that Gaara could kill them at a moment's notice, it had become an unspoken rule that he was their group leader. Kankuro had tried asserting his dominance as the older brother before but it rarely got him anywhere. It was far better to play the cowardly subordinate and win Gaara's mercy than attempt to defy the death penalty that was permanently hanging over their heads. However, they couldn't wait around in the trees forever, and his silent conversation with Temari was beginning to turn into a staring contest.

Stumbling whilst travelling wasn't unheard of. It could happen to anyone. A weak tree branch, fatigue, going too fast… there were many causes. His pride should have seen him back on his feet and picking up speed without pause. Instead, Gaara dropped to a crouch, his head lowered as if he was about to succumb to nausea. Kankuro didn't know where to look. What was he supposed to do in this situation? Never in his whole life had he seen the kid ill. Gaara often spent the days after a possession alone and out of sight. As usual, he found himself looking to Temari, hoping she would have all of the answers.

'Should we stop for a rest?'

The question provoked their younger sibling to get back onto his feet, although he seemed to be struggling. Without any hesitation, Kankuro leapt forwards so that they were sharing the same branch. He'd never seen his brother look so weak. Working one of the canteens from the Crow's wrappings, he held it out for Gaara to take. Instead of reaching out for it, he eyed the bottle with suspicion.

'Is that thing giving you a headache?' Kankuro asked, shaking the canteen from side-to-side. ''Cause this will help.'

A realisation struck him. That was another unspoken rule, one he'd just broken. Never make reference to the Shukaku. Ever. He'd seen Gaara called just about every name under the sun and he wouldn't so much as flinch, but the vaguest mention of the monster he carried with him was sure to break his composure every time. The worst part was not being able to predict the outcome. It could range from being ignored for days on end to being smothered with sand. Kankuro considered himself lucky for drawing the former consequence more often than not, but he'd seen enough uses of the 'sand coffin' to fear being on the wrong end of it.

'I mean,' he began, 'I was just –'

'Thanks.'

He took the flask, pulling out the stopper and taking small sips whilst Kankuro tried to adjust to his failed expectations. There should have been a wave of relief, but instead he felt somewhat stuck, as if he just had to set off one more trigger before the bomb really did explode. Instead, the moment stretched on, and it wasn't until Temari spoke up again that things seemed to switch perspective.

'I don't know about the both of you, but I ran out of food pellets a while back.'

'S-Same,' Kankuro said, his hand still outstretched even though the flask had been taken. He looked to his sister, 'I bet this place is full of things we can eat. Like berries and stuff.'

She'd cooled off since their disagreement, but she didn't hide the exhaustion from her tone. Things were still tense, and it was clear she was nervous about having to stop once more. Either that, or she begrudged the brothers' closeness.

'Gaara, if you want, you can stay here whilst we go looking.'

'Foraging,' he corrected.

A nervous laugh caught in Kankuro's throat. 'Right, _foraging_ then.'

'...I'll stay here.'

'Right.'

He felt as if he should tell him to take care or something along those lines, but even though the words were fighting to be spoken, he forced them back until the silence became too settled to disturb. Temari jumped from her branch, descending to the forest floor, and Kankuro followed immediately. She was already searching the low bushes by the time he was on the ground. Rather than start a conversation, he took off in the opposite direction. It wasn't long before he found what they were looking for. There was no worry about finding poisonous berries or toxic plants. Part of their assignment before reaching Konoha had been to study and learn the natural plant life and fauna of the region. Kankuro was more than sure that the dark, sweet-scented berries he was collecting were safe to eat.

By the time he'd plucked the stalks of the bush clean, his hands were rough with the smell of the leaves. The whole forest was heady with the scent of damp mud and living things festering amongst the foliage. Part of what he liked about the deserts surrounding Suna was the vast emptiness of the landscape, the musky heat of the air. There was too much noise between these trees; it was like an attack on the senses. Not to mention all of the bugs crawling around. He caught one scuttling across the berries in his hand and almost dropped them in an attempt to bat it away.

'I've got something,' he heard Temari say, her voice growing louder as she approached. 'What about you? Have you had any luck?'

'Not much but it's better than nothing,' he admitted.

She checked over the berries in his hand, picking one up to examine the shape and texture.

'I don't recognise this kind,' she said.

'They look safe enough.'

Temari held out her own collection, using her free hand to dust all of the Kankuro's unidentified finds to the floor. They bounced on contact, disappearing amongst the grass.

'Kankuro, really,' she said, her voice gruff with concern, 'you need to stop relying so heavily on appearances.'

As if to demonstrate her point, she popped one of the berries she'd found into her mouth, her eye twitching in reaction to the bitterness. Her hand remained open in offering, the smaller, red berries leaving traces of juice over her skin. After a little deliberation, he took a few, shoving them into his pocket the second her back was turned.

'Let's get going,' she said.

By the time they returned to the upper level of the trees, Gaara looked bored with waiting. He took their re-appearance as a cue to start moving again, kicking off from the branch and leading the way. The canteen had been left leaning against the trunk. Kankuro stopped to collect it; it left him a few paces behind, but he didn't worry about not being able to catch up. Just as Temari vanished out of his sight, he picked up the water bottle, feeling by the weight that it was about half full. He wondered if it would last for the remainder of the journey home.

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Not my favourite way to end a chapter, but I didn't want this to go on for much longer... thank you very much for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

'Almost home.'

Kankuro leapt to the ground, his toes meeting the bronze sands that stretched out for miles ahead. The hidden village was in miniature-scale on the horizon, a silent monument blanketed by clouds of lifted grains. The rising sun chased shadows back over the great dunes, and her warm strength filled the air with tantalising humidity. Like a fire lighting the sky, the heat of the day to come was already thickening the atmosphere.

Even though they'd travelled throughout the night just to make up the time, the three siblings found themselves slowing to a casual walk over the sand. So eager to get home, Kankuro led the way, Temari just-so flanking him and Gaara left behind by a fair few paces. They were all tired, all glad to be so close to a familiarity they all thought they'd never see again. For Kankuro, it had certainly felt that way back in Konoha. There was a brief moment of thought that he'd never experienced before. _What if I don't survive this next battle? What if I don't survive the journey home?_ Water and food became a nonissue with the forest being so full of edible treats and clear streams. He hadn't been worried about starving to death or dehydration. The only thing he had feared was Gaara's silence.

He was quiet the majority of the time, but there was being quiet, and then there was being silent. It descended not long after they had been forced to stop. From that point on, he hadn't said a word, even when spoken to. There came a point when Kankuro thought that an ambush of enemy shinobi would have been a welcome noise to hear over the perpetual weight of this extreme brand of taciturnity. The only respite had been the brief moments he'd spent with Temari whilst gathering more to eat or hanging back far enough from Gaara's lead to sneak a conversation between the two of them. More than once they'd asked themselves, _why are we whispering?_ It just felt like they should.

'I can't wait to get a bath and to eat something that doesn't taste like grass,' he persisted, hoping for some agreement.

It was enough to break Temari from her thoughts at least. 'After what's just happened, I doubt we'll get the luxury of relaxation.'

'Konoha won't retaliate,' Kankuro assured.

'And they probably won't consider being our allies ever again either.'

Out of habit, they still kept their voices low in volume; even this close to home they had to take care. As they drew closer, the village showed itself for the fortress it was, but there were often rogues lingering on the outskirts looking for any opportunity to strike. If there was one thing Temari and Kankuro knew by now, it was not to let their guard down at any point. Even when they were home safe. So there were no sighs of relief once they reached the opening.

In fact, they found themselves more on edge than before. Kankuro slowed his pace, Temari didn't overtake him, and Gaara was still catching up. The great walls of the village towered up into the sky, a dark path of shadows awaiting their return. Watchmen remained at their stations, eyes out on the desert expanse beyond. Kankuro was forced to a pause by their rigid discipline. Not so much as a 'welcome home' for the three children of the Kazekage? Even with Gaara present, it was very rare for the siblings to be ignored. He cast an uneasy glance to Temari, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the stone-faced watchmen for long enough to return the gesture. Before he thought to stop himself, Kankuro turned to see Gaara's reaction to the unusual silence that covered the village. At this point, they should have at least been able to hear the sounds of the morning routine clamouring beyond the walls.

He was in the middle of taking a deep breath, as if to force some semblance of calm. Or it might have looked that way if Gaara wasn't already a living example of expert composure. Kankuro interpreted it as a heavy sigh, perhaps one of irritation at the halt, as he eased between him and Temari both before disappearing into the shade. Silence had taken all three of them now, and they trudged towards the mouth of the village, weighted by a shared sense of foreboding.

The place was almost empty. Anybody they did pass ducked their heads or abruptly changed direction. Even the children were shy, clinging to their guardians and suffering the silence. Wooden wind chimes clattered and clacked, the sound of muffled footsteps filling the streets. Where the scents of food from popular vendors and open tea houses should have filtered through the air, there was nothing but musty sand clouds and dust trails.

'Excuse me, is something wrong?'

Kankuro stopped the next person to cross them, holding his hands up in surrender when they flinched at the sight of him. With his face full of sympathy, the man muttered an apology before hurrying on his way. Temari shrugged when he sought her out for an explanation, her brow creased with worry lines. The three of them walked separate from one another, all heading towards the main building where their father would be waiting to receive them. It was a long walk from the entrance, the rounded building seeming to remain in the distance for quite some time before they reached the foot of it.

Kankuro held the door open for his sister and waited for her to catch up. They both entered the building to see that something had stopped Gaara in the hallway. Whilst it wasn't the person he wanted to see, Kankuro was still pleased to see Baki alive and well. They arrived just in time to interrupt the intense atmosphere that arose whenever their teacher and younger brother met. Every moment between them was like a silent battle for dominance; how Gaara hadn't snapped and killed the man already was beyond Kankuro's comprehension. They'd been given a teacher before Baki who'd met such a fate, so lasting this long with the siblings had to be an achievement for their superior.

'You all made it,' he said, but his expression was grave. 'I expected no less.'

'I guess everybody heard about our failure,' Kankuro said, jerking his thumb back to the closed door. 'I've never seen the village so glum.'

Baki acknowledged the observation with a slight nod, his gaze resting on all three of the siblings in turn. The silence became uncomfortable, the stifling heat from outside seeping into the corridor.

'The shinobi of the leaf were tougher opponents than we thought,' he answered eventually. 'You all deserve a rest and to have your wounds seen to.'

'Sure,' Kankuro said. 'Where's dad? I mean, he probably got back here with you, right?'

Although the response was almost undetectable, Kankuro could have sworn Baki had balked at his question. But with half of his face hidden behind a loose section of the turban he wore at his head, it was often hard to catch the subtle changes in his facial expression.

'Of course,' he stammered, unable to maintain eye contact.

Executing an awkward bow, he motioned past Gaara and headed for the exit, his response uttered seconds before he opened the door to leave.

'He'll see to the three of you later. Rest for now.'

The sound of the latch catching in the doorjamb was the only thing to be heard for a good minute. Kankuro looked at where his teacher had been moments before, still struggling to work out the meaning behind his behaviour. Temari sighing aloud broke him from his thoughts, but it was Gaara who arrested his attention.

'He's lying.'

Kankuro was quick to retaliate. 'What do you mean by that?'

Even though Gaara looked tired, he still managed to appear frighteningly stern. He motioned to turn his back on them, only Temari's intervention stopped him in his tracks.

'Something's wrong,' she agreed. 'And it's more than our loss to Konoha.'

'So if Baki's lying, then what's he lying about?'

Kankuro aimed the question at his brother. His initial response was a blank stare, his thoughts hidden perfectly by his empty countenance. As usual, the siblings were left waiting for his answer. Not that it mattered much. Kankuro felt he knew it already. It kept appearing in his mind, only for him to shove it away with denial. There was something wrong, that much was obvious. He just didn't want to entertain the ideas emerging in his conscious.

'Dad isn't here,' Gaara said, before beginning his walk down the corridor. 'Make of that what you will.'

* * *

Thank you kindly for reading...


	5. Chapter 5

This part is in Gaara's POV.

* * *

He didn't want to make it look obvious. The point of the errand was to gather information; if none of it turned out to be useful, then the excursion never happened. Walking amongst the crowds of common people always attracted attention. He needed Baki to think he was alone.

There was a large screen door to the back of the building, in a training area that hadn't been used for well over a month now. The great glass panes reached from the top of the ceiling to the floor, allowing the daylight outside to seep into the room. Behind the surrounding structures, the fierce sun was now at her midpoint in the sky, stretching shadows across the soft training mats that carpeted the cool stone beneath. A thick layer of dust smothered the untouched apparatus, and a thin veil of specs drifted idly in front of the doors. Gaara had collected the keys from his father's office; he pulled one of the clear screens aside, stepping out into the stifling midday heat and into the dry yard beyond. Fingerprints on the glass and sandal markings on the floor mats were the only things he left behind.

The village was still quiet, although the traffic had increased with the time of day. Leaping up onto the stone wall that made a perimeter around the yard, he caught sight of the teeming crowds through a narrow alleyway, their hushed chatter carried over by the warm breeze. Landing on the other side, Gaara took all of the shortcuts he knew to get to the main marketplace. It was like a crossroads, intercepting almost every path through the village. He was fairly sure that he would see Baki there, no matter where the man was headed.

By all means, Gaara shouldn't have cared about any of this. His own father being missing might have been happy news. But the disappearance of the Kazekage wasn't going to make anything easier. If he wasn't around to be cautious and judgemental, then the rest of the village always would be. Then there was the matter of the apology. What could he do to show Kankuro and Temari that he had meant it? How could he even begin to repair the gaping wounds that kept him apart from his family? Maybe his father would always be a lost cause, but...

He could still give his siblings medicine. Just for the time being, doing them a favour he hadn't been asked to do might earn a small piece of their trust. They would care if the Kazekage was missing. They would want to know where he was, and Gaara believed that Baki was privy to that information. He remained hidden, making use of stacked open-top crates brimming with the day's imported fresh fruits and vegetables. Being a little shorter than average had its advantages, as did being the village outcast. Everything he did looked suspicious, so hiding in the shadows of a fruit stall wasn't the worst thing he could be caught doing. And anyone planning to use the small cut he was occupying diverted their path the instant they saw him. Likewise, the stall owner did nothing past appearing alarmed at having someone inform him that the Kazekage's youngest son was loitering around his wares. It was the same look Gaara had seen hundreds of times before. He tried to ignore that, and the following nervous glances that kept catching his eye.

_ Kill him._

He kept his gaze trained on the passing crowds, allowing the echoes of bartering and shouted advertisements to drown out his thoughts. From where he stood, he had a good view of the whole strip. Having used the alleyways and backstreets to his advantage, Gaara was sure that he had beaten Baki to the marketplace. He was expecting his teacher to come walking towards him. After that, he would take to the rooftops, remaining out of sight as he followed.

The merchant had moved closer, only stopped in his tracks by a browsing customer. His irritation was evident; Gaara was aware that if Baki didn't appear soon, the surrounding villagers would start to create a scene about his lurking.

_Kill them._

It didn't matter where he rested his eyes, everybody looked the same. All of them staring. All of them judging. Quite a crowd had gathered at the fruit stall now, their interest not as invested in the produce as it should have been. He overheard their comments, the same recycled insults and uttered remarks that had travelled with him throughout his whole life.

_I'm telling you to kill them._

_Just shut up_, he thought, but there across the way, he caught the sight of someone familiar. Baki was approaching, maneuvering himself through the gathered villagers, flanked by two other shinobi. The longer the day wore on, the busier it became. Gaara forced himself to wait by the crates for just a little longer until his teacher had passed by him. Against his growing discomfort with the sheer amount of people crammed into one narrow space, he pushed his way through in a battle to keep Baki in his sights. A pathway started to clear, allowing him an easier passage, and soon enough he found a ledge over a stall that he could easily jump onto. Leaving the smells of dank sweat and cooking food behind, he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, the chase slow enough for him to keep up.

Baki was dawdling, his travels to the outskirts of the village almost casual. Every so often, he'd talk with the men at his side, but all three of them seemed distracted. Between hiding behind fixtures and skulking in shadowed balconies, Gaara followed them all the way to the mouth of the village. Observing from around the side of a house, he watched the men ascend the steps to the exit.

The watchmen on the outside had witnessed Gaara disappearing into the desert on more than one occasion. Often, he heard their sharp intakes of breath as he approached, had even suffocated a few of them for disturbing his inner peace. Now, he thought, not things to be proud of. Whilst leaving the village on his own was subject to being ignored, following after high-ranking shinobi like Baki and his attendants would call his motives into question. The watchers might stop him, or tell someone that he had been seen tailing trusted advisors. The thought crossed his mind that he could use the sand Shunshin, but with the amount of guards situated around the outside of the village, it wouldn't prevent him from being seen entirely.

It was a move that used little chakra, but since leaving Konoha, Gaara was unsure of whether he wanted to use any at all. He had tested himself; it was 'lucky' that Kankuro had fallen as it gave him something to practice with. However, the resulting aftermath within made him wary of trying anything similar for the time being. He'd resonated with the Shukaku for so long that it was hard to distinguish between his own power and that of the Bijuu. They were almost one and the same, something he tried not to think about. Not to mention that he was still waiting for his 'punishment' for the way his battle ended with Naruto. The Shukaku had wanted blood, and none had been taken. Gaara's brief loss of consciousness had been enough of a mistake – the last thing he needed was to lose control when it could so easily be avoided.

Left with no other choice, he decided to approach the exit. There had been a few minutes between Baki's passing through and his own appearance. If he was lucky, the watchmen would think of it as a coincidence. Stepping into the shadowed pathway he'd crossed less than an hour or so before, he was met with the sound of someone running towards him.

'Stop!' they shouted, 'You can't pass through –'

The young shinobi's face drained of all colour, his expression loose with shock. Stumbling over his words for a moment, he eventually managed to string a sentence together.

'All villagers are under orders to stay away from the deserts at this time,' he said, perfectly rehearsed.

'Why?'

_Kill him_.

It was worth trying to glean information from the young watchman. Although he wasn't expecting his path of atonement to be an easy one, Gaara wanted to try adhering to it as soon as possible. The longer he made excuses for himself, the longer it would take for anything to change. He wanted desperately for this exchange to go smoothly, without any problems.

'What do you mean, 'why'?' the shinobi answered. 'It's an order. I'm not at liberty to discuss it beyond that.'

_Confident, all of a sudden_.

'I'm the Kazekage's son,' he reminded. 'I can leave the village whenever I want. I usually do.'

_I'll show him. Frighten the others by splattering his blood all over—_

'All due respect, but even the Kazekage's children can't leave the village today.'

He felt a headache coming on, but they were never standard brain pains. It was more like his skull was being cracked open from the inside, as if something was trying to grow right out of it. That and the frightening mantras overriding his thoughts made it harder for him to focus on anything the young man was saying. He kept talking, talking with his hands, talking with rehearsed lines, talking and talking.

_His voice is annoying._

_ You should kill him._

There was a sudden movement. Gaara caught it before closing his eyes. The sound of shifting sand scraped through the air. It was never the last thing he heard. Sometimes pleas, sometimes names. But the noise of the sand was never the last thing he heard.

* * *

Thank you for reading once again, but also for the feedback, follows and favourites. It's all much appreciated...! I hope the rest of this messy little story continues to be of interest...


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry this is kind of late...! I'll upload it before I edit it to death.

* * *

His knees hit the floor hard, bit-back groans and pained whimpers leaving through his teeth. The screams he had been expecting didn't come; the area was otherwise quiet. Fighting a battle on the inside was always going to be harder than any other physical conflict. And it didn't help that the Shukaku was a tougher opponent than most.

It was like he took offence to being denied.

With his headache ebbing and the tumultuous war for power finally at an end, Gaara opened his eyes, already planning his apology to the frightened watchman. He was greeted with an empty pathway, the great stone walls and sandy floor wet with blood and stringy sinew.

_Nobody heard a thing_, the Shukaku rumbled._ He was suffocated first._

The sand from the gourd lay around in clumps, absorbing the leftovers. Gaara recalled the taste of blood; it was like iron. The air smelt of copper and the eerie silence that befell the opening of the village was both a relief and an agent to his terror.

There was no understanding it. He'd tried. He'd actually tried this time.

Did this mean taking full control was impossible? Would every confrontation, no matter how big or small, end in this way? What if he really was better off alone. What if isolating himself was the only way he would ever be able to spare anybody?

He picked himself up off the ground, feeling his legs shaking for the second time in the space of a few days. The first time he had felt this frightened, he had been beneath the moon on that cold night, when Yashamaru lay crumpled at his feet. The last time... he recalled lying on his back in a clearing, somewhere amongst the forestry of Konoha. Opposite the one called Naruto Uzumaki. At that moment, he had feared dying. He had feared losing everything he had worked so hard to get.

That boy had made him realise that all he really had was nothing. Nothing but a deep hole carved into his chest, a wound he now had to heal. Gaara thought that he had been on his way to seeking out the right kind of medicine for it, but now...

What would Temari and Kankuro think?

Slick with the blood of a fresh kill, the sand retracted back into the gourd, the container growing heavier as it filled itself right to the top. Gaara straightened, turning in all directions to make sure nobody had seen. But there was no way he could follow Baki out by foot now.

There was an empty, run-down convenience store on the outskirts of the east-side estates, the old sign visible from the top of the steps where he stood. He knew Sunagakure like the back of his hand, had been around it more than enough times to know where he could spend the night in favour of returning home. Over the years, he had taken many disused properties as his own until they were renovated and reused, but the convenience store hadn't taken anybody else's interest for a long while now.

Sure that he was alone and unwatched, Gaara broke his no-chakra rule and opened the third eye, connecting the optic nerve and leaving the small, sand-made eyeball by the village opening whilst he made for his chosen hideout. Navigating the streets with only half of his vision was easier than it should have been, if not a little disorientating.

Around the back of the small, detached store, there was an open window, the frame slack with rot and the lock long broken. He lifted up the pane, a cloud of dust and sand grains floating out into the warm air. Inside it was cool with shade, the rest of the windows boarded up with wooden shutters. The place smelt musty with age, the floorboards creaking even though Gaara prided himself on being light-footed. He left the beam of light that warmed his entrance, embracing the darkness and taking refuge beneath the old, broken staircase.

Despite being hidden, his heartbeat was still erratic, his chest full of dread. Anybody could have seen what he had done. He still couldn't get over the failure.

_Listen, Gaara._

He tried not to listen. Able to control the third eye even from this distance, he took in the expansive desert sands beyond the opening, scouring the golden dunes for any sight of Baki and the men he had taken with him. It didn't take him long to find evidence of their passing through the shifting drifts; vague impressions of their footprints gave their position away.

_Nobody else accepts you like I do._

Gaara observed that all three of them were standing around a great ditch, heads bowed and backs turned to whatever lay inside. They talked quietly amongst themselves, oblivious to the fact that they were being watched. Not that it mattered. He took the opportunity to look into the hole. The abrupt shock forced him to lose focus, his visual aid terminated the second he opened his left eye.

A roaring laugh erupted in his mind, the image of the sunken corpses burnt over all of his existing thoughts. Where there should have been overwhelming emotion of any kind, Gaara barely registered anything. What did he feel, seeing his own father dead? It wasn't like it was something he hadn't imagined for himself countless times before.

_It's called relief!_

Rising to a stand, he tried to block out the voice of the Shukaku.

He'd made a decision, now it was time to deliver the information he'd learnt. His feelings shouldn't factor here. Besides, he was betting on Temari and Kankuro appreciating his efforts, even just a little.

_Sounds like a bad bet._

Gaara stood where the only ray of light to reach the room met the floor, his toes almost warmed by it. Dust specks flitted through the beam like a trailing veil, the day's heat mingling with the cool shade that bathed him. The death of the watchman shouldn't have been so upsetting.

But he was walking a fine line of trust with his siblings as it was. Barely one step forward, he felt like he had stared down into the abyss. He felt like he was already backtracking. Dread ran down his chest like cold water; it was like everybody else was at the other side of the wire he was challenging himself to cross.

The worst of it was, the two people who should have been closest to him seemed to be the furthest away.

_Like I said_, he heard in the back of his mind, _sounds like a bad bet._

* * *

'Hey, Temari?' He knocked on the door three times. 'I'm coming in.'

'Sure.'

She was sitting in front of her mirror, running a brush through the damp strands of her hair. Dressed in light clothing, she had no intention of leaving the mansion that night. With all of the travelling they'd done, a bath had been her first priority, and a good meal would be the next one. There was always food in their cupboards; if there wasn't, then she could send an attendant to get some.

Kankuro left the doorway, crossing the room and perching on the end of her bed. All of his make-up had been wiped off, his hat nowhere to be seen, but he was dressed in casual attire. Since most of his outfits tended to be black in colour, it was hard to tell between his clothes for battle and then those for bed.

'I haven't seen Baki all afternoon. I'm thinking of going out to find him, to see what he knows about dad.'

'Dad's probably fine,' Temari said, but decided to correct herself. 'He's always fine.'

She put the brush down on the dressing table, turning around to face her younger brother. He looked cross, his posture tense.

'Have you ever thought that Gaara might have been lying?'

'Why would he?' Kankuro argued, locking gazes with her.

She blinked, unsure of how to respond. Since Gaara's apology back in Konoha, she had felt nothing but guilt. If not for her inability to believe in it, then at Kankuro's lack of patience with her. Deep down, she wanted for them to be a happy family, close-knit and able to trust one another with their lives. It was just far easier to strive for that with Kankuro than it had ever been to establish with Gaara.

There were times when she had known that her aims to please her youngest brother were motivated only by fear. Fear of what he would do if she didn't at least try to be a loving sister. But in the end, he was unaffected by both her affection and her indifference. Showing the latter just happened to be much less of an effort. That, and it was what Gaara seemed to want.

'Well, how does he know dad is missing?' she asked, sounding much colder than she had planned.

'He has good senses?' Kankuro defended lamely.

He propped his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his unkempt hair.

'Gaara wouldn't kill dad,' he went on, unable to look Temari in the eye. 'He wouldn't dare.'

A gust of wind bearing at the window broke the opportunity for silence, and both siblings turned to look out across the buildings beyond the pane. Another sandstorm had rolled in, the sky blanketed by streams of cloud hued red. Temari breathed in deep, catching the scent of her freshly washed hair.

'So you think he's been killed?'

She'd never felt her chest so full and so empty. Dread swelled, panic beginning to brim, but it was like a cavern had opened up inside of her. Blinking a few times, she cleared the tears attempting to form there.

'I don't know,' Kankuro said slowly, his voice breaking a little. He cleared his throat, 'But I can't think of any other reason why he would be missing.'

Without warning, he lifted himself up from the bed, heading straight for the door. Temari watched as he wrenched it back, almost with enough force to hit the wall behind it. She saw their youngest sibling at about the same time he did, both of them jumping in shock. It forced her from her chair, so she recovered by joining her elder brother's side. Kankuro was visibly flustered, but held his position.

'Have you ever heard of knocking?!' he yelled in fright.

To his credit, Gaara's fist was raised, as if he had been moments away from rapping against the door. His answer was a brief glance towards his own clenched hand before looking Kankuro in the eye again.

'What do you want?'

As always, there was no visible reaction. Not that the same could be said for Temari. Gaara hadn't changed from the clothes he had been wearing upon their arrival, but she was sure that the only mark of blood had been that at his chest where the chidori had caught him. Now, the white sash over his shoulder was spattered with dried crimson marks, his bare arms speckled the same.

'What have you done?' she asked, surprising herself as much as him.

But it wasn't the first time he'd returned to them looking like that. He would usually glare them into keeping their tongues, an unspoken challenge for them to dare commenting on it.

'I've come here to tell you something,' he said.

His voice was so soft that it sent a shiver down her spine. She had always hated to see him so serene when drenched with somebody else's blood. The stench of it clung to him, the room filled with the metallic tang of his latest kill. Casualties during missions were one thing, but wandering the streets to pick off your own people was something else entirely.

Gaara crossed the threshold into the bedroom, ignorant of their reservations. Kankuro pushed the door shut. Somehow he managed to keep his cool, throat jumping as he swallowed back his fear.

'Did anybody see you?' was the first thing he asked.

Temari glanced at him, surprised. Was he intending on covering for him if he had killed again? Her outrage came second to her pity, pity for Kankuro who was obviously so blinded by the sudden apology they'd received that he was willing to clutch at it with both hands and refuse to let it go.

Gaara considered his words for a moment. Although he looked ready to answer, there was no chance for him to say anything.

'Was it just one?' Kankuro went on. 'Or two, or three? How many?'

He had raised his voice so suddenly that she felt herself flinch at the volume. Ensuring that the door was properly closed, Temari shoved Kankuro by the shoulder.

'Calm down,' she urged. 'Gaara, you said you had something to say, so what is it?'

His eyes travelled to meet hers, his expression as unreadable as always. She was finding it difficult not to focus on his bloodstained clothes, not to dwell too much on how short-lived their hope had been. She was proud of herself for not buying into his fake apology. Until he could prove himself, she didn't think it was worth the hurt. Beside her, Kankuro shook with barely suppressed anger - either that, or he was unable to control his nerves.

'It's dad,' Gaara said.

Kankuro flinched.

'Did you...?'

For the first time in a long time, Temari registered an emotional response from her younger brother before a verbal one. His face blanched, eyes widening for a moment in clear alarm. It was only at that point that he even seemed to consider his appearance. Looking down at his clothes, he blinked at the realisation.

'No,' he said, his voice rough as though hurt.

He was visibly irritated; it felt like a match had been struck. They were all tense now, although Temari had no clue why Gaara was on edge. He regarded them both with quiet nothingness, so she watched him in return, waiting for some flicker of an expression to prove he was lying, or for any slight twitch of his fingers. But he was still. Everything in the room, besides the tumultuous sand storm outside, was very still.

'How can we believe that?'

He looked at his sister, a light frown creasing his brow.

_I don't know_, he seemed to say. Or was it? The more she considered his perplexity, the more it looked like guilt.

With an abrupt movement, Kankuro returned to his seat at the edge of the bed, breaking their silent communication.

'Dad's dead, isn't he?'

Gaara turned to face him without hesitation. 'Baki and others... they found him in the desert.'

'Dead?' Kankuro repeated.

A nod.

'I thought so.'

An intense pain struck her chest, but Temari didn't cry. She wondered for a moment if she had become incapable of shedding tears – children were supposed to get upset when their parents passed away. So why couldn't she feel anything? Why was there nothing by her heart but empty space? Her throat was raw and clagging, but no moisture could be pulled to her eyes.

With his job done, Gaara motioned to leave. Temari stared at the floor as he left, relying on the sound of the latch clicking to know that he was definitely gone. Kankuro was just as motionless, until she caught him rubbing his arm across his face.

Grains of sand hit the window glass, the storm still raging as the daylight began to wane. Even though rain was so rare in the deserts of Suna, Temari was sure that that was how it would have sounded drenching the panes.

* * *

Thank you so much once again for the reviews, your patience and everything else, it means so much. Otherwise, I hope my efforts to increase the pace a little work out. Any feedback and comments are really appreciated, as this is my first time writing (and attempting to finish) a longer piece like this one...

**Edit:** Typos, minor errors. I'm so sorry! I think I was half asleep when I uploaded this...


	7. Chapter 7

Splashing her face with cold water, Temari checked herself over in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy, her skin blotched red. She dabbed at her face with a drying cloth, somewhat thankful for being awake so late at night when nobody would be able to see her like this.

Midnight was fast approaching; she learnt as much from the clock in the bedroom. Time seemed to be slipping through her fingers like the water she'd left to drain in the basin. The gurgling of the plug was twice as loud in the silence of the early hour.

Walking around this late wasn't advisable, but she wasn't anticipating sleep to befall her now. Amongst settling feelings of grief, her growling stomach was keeping her up. Getting something to eat would be a distraction if anything. Even if it was the last thing she felt like doing.

So much had happened in the past twenty four hours that it was hard to remember the details. Sunagakure's surrender and apology to the Leaf had been dealt with now that the villagers knew the fate of their missing Kazekage. Dates for his burial had already been discussed, as well as how to conduct the service, but Temari found herself unwilling to participate in any of it.

_Just do whatever you think is best. _

It was all she was saying as of late.

Her only responsibility was to attend, and make sure both of her brothers attended, and that was how she wanted it. She had no room in her mind to think about flowers, songs or speeches. It was too fractured with grief.

As she wandered the dark corridors, she felt like a trespasser. Technically, they had no right to stay within the main building, but it had been their home longer than any of the siblings could remember. Until a new Kazekage was elected, Temari had no intentions of moving. It was just another thing she wanted to avoid thinking about.

Living with several floors between herself and Gaara was worrying enough. The idea of relocating to a smaller apartment where chance encounters were more likely was something she'd rather not make into a reality. It wasn't just his irritability that put her off, but the bloodlust, the 'conversations', the increased possibility of witnessing his return from a fresh kill.

She still couldn't decide if his plea of innocence a few days before had been genuine. These kinds of situations were something their father had always protected them from. So despite her worry, she hadn't mentioned it to their teacher.

Baki had been the one to officially confirm the news that Gaara had brought to them hours before his arrival. Their father had been found mutilated and abandoned in the deserts, his guards all disposed of. He hadn't even made it to the Leaf village; he wasn't the one watching them in the arena. Temari didn't know how to feel about that. She couldn't accurately remember the last time she'd seen him. Just like how she couldn't remember ever telling him she appreciated him. Or that she loved him.

He had been a difficult man to live with, cold and often cutting himself off from any emotional endeavour. But that hadn't ever challenged their bond as father and daughter.

She learnt that, as soon as his disappearance had been realised, a patrol had taken to the sands to find any trace of his last whereabouts. Following the Third Kazekage's ongoing MIA status, finding the Fourth's body had become an immediate priority.

Yet one of the first things Baki expressed had been doubt at his youngest student being the culprit.

'We were betrayed by the Sound,' he had admitted to Temari. 'Seems we were so worried about Gaara disrupting the plan that we paid no attention to the disaster unfolding at home.'

Temari knew her brother was capable of a lot of things, but patricide had never crossed her mind as being one of them.

Their father was the only person he had ever been openly afraid of.

Passing a line of circular windows, Temari shivered at a cold draught. One of the windows had been left open, the corridor chilled as if it were encased in ice. She paused for a moment to look out over the rooftops of the village.

The night was still except for the sand drifts carried with the breeze. Despite the late hour, there were house lights glowing in the distance. Everything had been so quiet since their return from Konoha. The village's usual vibrancy existed in ghosts of sound and the repetition of routine. It was hard to believe that things would get better, but Suna thrived under hardship and unease. The coveted civilisation, surrounded by sparse dunes and the heat of the sun, had become accustomed to the tumultuous ways of its land. This was another storm that they were prepared to ride out.

But it was difficult to remember that when all seemed lost.

Being the elder sibling wasn't anything new, but Temari felt too young to take the lead. It had been her position for a long time; she had just never had to notice it before. She tried to comfort herself, knowing that she would never be alone. Kankuro was close enough to her in age to take joint responsibility in their family affairs.

Although she hadn't seen him since Gaara's visit, she knew it would be best to leave him to himself. Kankuro was mostly unashamed of his emotions, but had he wanted her support, he would have sought it by now. Once his melancholy had lifted, the status quo would resume. He would expect her to be the strong one, and for the first time in her life, Temari feared letting him down.

Battling the chill, she pulled the window closed, locking it to the frame with a flick of the latch. It was so old now that the metal had rusted; loosened flakes of it clung to her skin along with the strong scent of iron. Too heartsick to even think about food, she wondered about returning to bed. Until the sound of light footsteps pulled her attention to the end of the hallway.

'You're up early.'

'I'm always up early,' she said lamely.

Temari drew a sigh of relief to see their teacher, and not somebody she'd rather not bump into. As Baki drew level with her, he looked out onto the village as she had done moments earlier.

'It's one in the morning,' he reminded her. 'But never mind... I need to speak to you about something.'

'If it's about the service -'

'It's about a mission.'

Temari almost took a step back in surprise. 'A mission?'

He must have heard the incredulity of her tone. For a moment, he seemed to consider what he'd said, directing his gaze to the floor as he attempted to backtrack.

'It's nothing major,' he assured. 'It's just something to keep you all focused. We can't neglect our duties, even at this time.'

'Can't anybody else do it?'

The hairs on her arms stood on end, her skin prickled with goosebumps. She had to admit that it wasn't like her to deny a direct order. Shinobi weren't supposed to question their given tasks. The attack on Konoha was enough proof of her belief in that - despite her reservations, she had gone ahead and done as asked. There was no negotiating these things.

Baki frowned with concern, but he wasn't going to budge on the issue.

'I'm asking you, Kankuro and Gaara to do it,' he said. 'It's low-ranking, simple. I think it'll be good for the three of you.'

Although she couldn't agree with his reasoning, it was better to remain silent and take the mission than try to stir up an argument. After all, one thing she had never been able to fault was Baki's kindness. Something told her that he wasn't doing this to be tough on them.

Temari noticed how tired he looked - he was no less affected by the Fourth Kazekage's death than anybody else in the village. But his closer relationship to their father had to speak for something. They weren't best friends by any means, but the nature of their work often had them in contact.

On top of that, the higher tiers of the village hierarchy were now in chaos, scrabbling to find a replacement leader and bickering amongst themselves about what kind of future Sunagakure could have in the aftermath of their failure to Konoha.

It was no surprise Baki looked so worn out, nor felt that he could rely on them to take up a petty mission that would be better out of his mind than stuck there as a burden.

'One of the guards at the entrance has gone missing for over a few days now,' Baki explained, in regards to the mission. 'His family have put in a request to have him found.'

If there was one thing Suna didn't need, it was another missing shinobi.

'He was stationed at the entrance to prevent passage in the desert whilst the sands were being combed for...'

Baki cleared his throat. Temari tried not to pay too much attention to the topic they were avoiding. She couldn't risk crying in front of her teacher, of all people.

'Anyway,' he continued, 'somebody who lives on the outskirts thinks she might have seen something. As soon as you're ready - and at a reasonable hour - I'd like you to take a statement from her.'

'Is he someone of importance?' Temari quizzed. 'Someone who might have had enemies?'

'He was a watchman,' Baki said. 'Nothing more or less.'

With all of their personal problems, she couldn't help but feel that this mission was an insult to herself and her siblings. They were overqualified for it if anything, and she could only imagine the reaction she would get from Gaara when briefing him. He had been known in the past to resist a task if he felt it wasn't worth his time, and dragging him along despite his feelings didn't often bode well for anyone to test his temper.

Yet at the same time, she knew what it was like to fret over a missing family member. The watchman could have been a father himself, or a beloved sibling. If - heaven forbid - Gaara or Kankuro disappeared, she would hate to think anyone would regard it as trivial. If the shinobi of the sand could rally together to help search for her missing father, then who was she to abandon a fellow villager going through the same trial.

'I'll brief the other two as soon as they're awake,' Temari said to her teacher.

He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, offering a solemn nod. Believing that the exchange was over, she gave a brief wave and turned back in the direction from which she came.

'Oh, and...'

As she looked to Baki again, he seemed uncomfortable beneath her gaze.

'The three of you might want to consider a temporary accommodation outside of the mansion,' he said. 'In your own time, of course.'

His words left in a rush, his distaste for the news clear. She supposed if they could have it their way, they would remain here even with a new Kazekage taking the offices on the higher floors.

This was their home.

But they had no more right to be here than anybody else with their father gone. If the mansion was opened for their sake, then they might as well start renting rooms out to the public. Not everybody in Sunagakure was lucky enough to have a solid roof over their head.

Temari stood in silence, deep in thought. To live, they would have to rely on their wages from missions, which would barely cover their needs even with the addition of a small benefit from the council.

As Baki began to walk away, she wondered if that was the reason behind his harsh orders.

From this point on, the siblings would need all of the help they could get, and Suna wasn't the kind of place to over-extend itself where aid was concerned. There were barely enough missions for the Sand shinobi as it was... really, Baki had done them a favour by getting them something that just about anyone could look into.

* * *

Starved of sleep, Kankuro didn't see the point in being starved of food as well. Even though he didn't feel like eating, he forced his breakfast down with a glass of water and hoped it would stay put. It was strange knowing that the day would go on and he wouldn't see his main parent during in it. That he would never see his father from this point onward, ever again.

Even stranger was knowing that he hadn't seen him for months now. He had talked to the Kazekage's imposter about such mundane, unnecessary things, and not once had he ever thought that it wasn't his father sitting there. The idea of carefully considering his last words to the man before his death, were nothing but a vague worry that might sometimes arise late at night or as he contemplated the fragility of life. Not something he would have to dwell on so suddenly, and so soon in his own lifetime.

What _was_ the last thing he had ever said to his father? All he could be sure of was that there had been no mention of love or affection. No mention at all of what the man meant to him, and especially nothing about how much he resented some of the choices he'd made on their behalf in life.

There had been many-a-time he'd thought that Gaara might not have been lost to himself and Temari if they had only been raised together as children.

But that was all in the past now, and the longer he spent thinking about it, the less well he felt.

Although part of that was looking up and seeing none other than his younger brother sitting at the table with him.

Silent, as always.

He had no food in front of him, nothing but a ceramic cup of something warm enough to breathe heat fumes into the air. Tea, coffee? Kankuro wouldn't even know what he liked to drink at such a time in the morning.

The sun had only just risen, the soft light lending a gentle glow to the kitchen bench tops and smooth stone cupboards.

'Are you... alright?'

Once he'd said it, he didn't know why he had. What was he expecting? A deep, bonding conversation with Gaara? Like that would ever happen. And even though he secretly longed for the question to be sent back in return, Kankuro knew that the only thing his sibling might feel about their father's death was relief. Either that, or joy. They had never had any relationship between them, so there was nothing for him to mourn for.

'You've had your wound healed,' Kankuro observed, in an effort to change the topic.

He gestured to the space on his own chest where Gaara had been hit with the Uchiha's Chidori, receiving a blank stare in return. If he was even going to answer, he was distracted from doing so, condemning the moment to a missed opportunity.

The door opened with a creak, and Temari stalked into the room only to stop in her tracks with muted surprise.

'Good morning.'

'Hey.'

He thought to ask her how she was feeling, knowing that he would get a response, and also knowing that she would say she was fine because if there was one thing Temari never did, it was let on to her true feelings. He envied her stoicism, her ability - not too unlike Gaara's - to keep her stronger emotions in check and behave as if they never existed.

But Kankuro felt he could draw strength from her control - if she could show restraint, then he felt inspired to do the same. She set the standard to which he should conform, and that wasn't any different now. He decided against asking after her feelings, preferring to gloss over them before they made him suffer again.

After running herself a glass of water, Temari joined her brothers at the table, tense in the awkward atmosphere that cemented them.

'Oh,' she murmured, as if suddenly remembering something. 'Baki has a mission for us.'

'What kind of mission?'

Kankuro couldn't help but feel it was too soon for them to be expected to adapt, no matter how intense their emotional training had been from the start of their tutelage. Baki was ruthless in battle, but it was unlike him to push them at a time like this.

'It's a search-party type task,' she explained. 'A watchman from the entrance has gone missing and we have to inquire about it with a witness.'

'Oh, c'mon,' Kankuro answered gruffly, 'anybody could do that.'

Just with a quick glance over the table, he knew that none of them were up to the task in either physical or mental state. They might have had time to heal and rest up, but the emotional wounds were going to take a while to disappear.

Surely no villager would begrudge them turning down a search mission when they were still reeling from the discovery of their own missing family member.

Kankuro looked to Gaara, expecting him to at least put up some resistance, but he seemed more distant than ever. He had his arms resting on the table, his hands clenched into fists tight enough to show the bones of his knuckles.

'Gaara, are you okay?' he heard Temari ask.

She sat up in her chair, leaning forwards as if to search for him, but he lowered his chin to his chest, determined to avoid her eyes.

'Tell Baki to give the mission to somebody else,' Kankuro said.

'He's trying to help us,' she returned, 'We need to move out of the mansion and our savings won't keep us forever.'

He clicked his tongue, directing his scowl at the floor so as not to make Temari feel at fault. She was only relaying Baki's message, and as far as their finances were concerned, taking on any mission they could get made sense. It wasn't that he hadn't considered this himself, but grief had left him in a fog over the past few days. It had made it hard to acknowledge these minor worries beyond the uncertainty and pain of losing his only parent.

And either Gaara was taking it worse than he first thought, or there was something else bothering their younger brother. His quietness wasn't uncharacteristic, but this deathly silence wasn't Kankuro's most favoured state to see him in either. It was almost certainly like he was trapped in his own thoughts Spending all of his energy and attention on the monster that hassled him.

Although he had never worked up the courage to ask about it, Kankuro had always wondered about the 'conversations' Gaara would routinely have with the Shukaku. What did they say to one another? Was it all one-sided? Either way, he couldn't shake his uncertainties about this situation.

Kankuro tried to tell himself that the possession could still be affecting him, that the death of the Kazekage could have moved Gaara enough to be suffering with genuine emotion. That was what he wanted to believe.

He just wasn't sure he could. And that belief seemed further away than ever when he looked up to see Temari glaring her suspicions directly at him.

* * *

Wrote this chapter a little longer than usual... sorry for updating so late...! Thank you once again for the kind words and interest, bbut I think you might be flattering me too much ha ha! Either way, I'm happy that people are enjoying this story and I hope I can continue to make it enjoyable...


	8. Chapter 8

I'm so sorry for the delay... Being honest, I lost motivation for this story a little while back... I was afraid people wouldn't like it, I guess ha ha... I've had this chapter written up for a while anyway, so I figured there'd be no harm in posting it. Uhm, so... if people want me to continue, I'll happily do that. Otherwise, thank you so much for your support/reviews, etc. It means so much to me, you really have no idea...

* * *

_We'll meet outside the mansion in half an hour._

She'd said that over two hours ago.

Waiting for Gaara at the beginning of a mission wasn't uncommon. For whatever reason, his time-keeping had always been off. Whether it was his concept that was lacking, or his attitude, neither of the siblings could be sure.

All Temari knew was that it bordered on annoying when they were left waiting in the heat for longer than expected.

Kankuro was leaning against the wall, bathed in shade. She had to admit that he was being uncharacteristically quiet, but what else could she expect? He might have noticed things about her that weren't normal behaviours; that was the strange thing about grief.

So locked in darkness, it became difficult to see how much of an effect it was having.

'Do you think we should just go ahead on our own?'

It was almost midday, the sun hanging low in the sky and breathing stagnant warmth over the village. Loud chatter from the markets existed in the background, the lack of a breeze in the air making everything seem unrealistically still.

Temari tried swallowing to wet her throat, and ran the palm of her hand over the back of her neck to un-stick her hair.

'Maybe we should look for him,' Kankuro answered.

He kicked away from the wall, stretching his hands up over his head and easing the stiffness from his back.

'He wouldn't get lost,' Temari said.

'I'm not saying he's lost,' Kankuro said. 'I just think...'

'What?'

It wasn't that she couldn't understand what he was getting at. She had noticed it too, after all. His behaviour at the breakfast table. If it could even be called that.

Gaara didn't ever behave, it seemed he merely existed. He was too still and composed to be accused of reacting, too silent and dead in the eyes to be thoughtful. Temari often wondered if he was as lifeless on the inside as he portrayed himself on the outside.

But there were things she had learnt to watch for over the years, little subtleties that told her there was something not quite right about him. The main things to look out for had once been 'conversations', aggravated breathing or the squeak of the cork in his gourd unscrewing out of place.

Now, she couldn't quite decide if his silence at the table had been characteristic or a sign of something else.

And Kankuro seemed to be just as confused.

'I want to talk to him,' he decided.

'You think you'll get a conversation out of him?'

It was a fair question, not intended to sound so difficult. There were just some things that became a wasted effort around Gaara, and trying to talk to him was one of them.

'There's no harm in trying.'

Temari sighed, wilting beneath the heat already. Probably something to do with her inability to eat properly; everyone knew that not keeping hydrated in this climate was asking for trouble.

'I'll talk to the witness,' she said. 'We can't afford to lose this mission.'

Quite literally, they couldn't. No matter how simple it was.

'I'll let you know when I find Gaara,' Kankuro said. 'Brief us on what you've learnt and we'll go from there.'

She nodded, offering a brisk wave before turning towards the main street. With the address memorised, she made for the house on the outskirts of the village.

* * *

This far out, successful traders were few and residential areas many. There were more derelict buildings here than anywhere else, the structures in desperate need of repair. Temari was thankful for the shade cast by the awkward layout of the houses; some were crammed so tightly together, built one on top of the other, that it was hard to tell where one part ended and the others began.

A lot of the village's poorer residents lived far out, away from all of the commerce and trading that captivated the centre. Also it was a given that, if the village was attacked, these houses would be the first to feel the wrath of whatever force was invading.

Temari moved through the thin, rickety streets, passing children playing in the dust and the elderly sitting outdoors for relief from the stifling heat. She walked until she reached a dead-end, the entrance to a set of flats sitting right before her. Looking up at the balconies overhead, she noticed the tower reached quite a height – enough to drench the area in full shade as it blocked out the sun's rays.

She rapped her knuckles against the door, waiting patiently for an answer. The landlord was quick to respond.

'I'm here to speak to the woman who lives in Flat 5,' Temari said. 'On request.'

He opened the door a little wider, recognition widening his eyes from the wrinkled caverns that hid them.

'Lady Temari,' he said.

As she had gotten older, that had become one of two reactions to expect from the general public whenever she found herself in their presence.

Ensuring good relations with all of the village residents had been one of her duties – they could hardly blame her for not trying to unite them and better Sunagakure's prospects for budding ahinobi. Even as she stood at this doorway, her plea to start structured lessons amongst Sungakure youths was awaiting discussion amongst the council.

It had been an idea she had pitched to her father long before the Konoha invasion, and something which had inevitably taken a backseat when plans for that fell underway.

'You're a long way from home,' the man said.

Temari kept her posture rigid, her gaze as empty as she could make it.

'I'm here as part of a mission. You're obligated to assist and comply.'

'They don't usually send your type out here, is what I mean,' he said, his voice strained with age. 'Your father much preferred to let that monster of his roam these parts.'

Temari maintained her even stare, but inside, her mind was rioting against it. There was no denying that Gaara was on the outskirts of the village – or directly outside of it – more often than he was ever where he should have been, that being near the mansion. His difficult relationship with their father could have been part of that, but it was more that he had been allowed to roam as he pleased for a long time.

She had always supposed that he had preferred being far away from the centre of the village, but that in itself had presented its own risks.

For as susceptible to enemy attack these parts were, they didn't just have their geographical position to blame for their neglected state.

The truth was, Gaara has been picking off villagers here for longer than anyone could even remember.

'Come in,' the landlord said, shuffling back a few steps. 'I'll let the lady in Flat 5 know you're here.'

Temari stepped into the cool building, glancing at her immediate surroundings as she was led towards a low desk at the back of the room. There were faded paintings on the walls, worn chairs dotted around the place, and a set of crooked lockers to her right. A resident stood beside them, sifting through the letters that were kept inside. He side-eyed her, but made no effort to form a greeting.

Soon enough, she was given passage up the stairs, the climb taking her right to the top of the block. A soft breeze rolled in through the open window at the end of the corridor, her attention drawn to the view of the village beyond. From here, she could see the round shape of the mansion, the cluttered, compact buildings that led all the way up to it.

She didn't have to knock on the witness' door – she was already standing with it held open, her free hand resting her weight against the frame.

'I wasn't expecting one of the Kazekage's children,' she said.

Temari tried not to roll her eyes. She hadn't been here five minutes, and already there had been more than one person to act like she was a sheltered princess on her first day out of her castle.

'I'm here to collect the information you have about the missing watchman,' Temari explained.

'I know why you're here,' the woman said. 'Maybe it's a good thing.'

The witness moved away from the door, beckoning her into the room that lay beyond. She lived in a cramped, over-decorated place, a set of wind chimes hanging from the low ceiling being the first thing that Temari almost bumped into.

Rather than follow the woman's lead and shuffle through the things she was hoarding, Temari thought it would be best to wait by the door.

'Or it could be a bad thing,' the witness rambled as she headed for the stove.

A full kettle whistled steam from its spout, the boiling water inside almost moving it from the gas ring.

'Are you talking about the watchman?' Temari asked.

The faster she could get the information and leave, the better. She watched the woman pour the hot water into two cups, her hands shaking violently from the weight of the kettle.

'I'm talking about you,' she said, in her gravelly voice. 'About you being here.'

Temari thought back on what she'd heard the woman say, wondering aloud about what she could possibly mean.

'Why would it be a bad thing...?'

Her guard was already raised; that was an automatic thing. Never would she wander into an unfamiliar place without considering her options first. But something told her that she didn't have to worry about the frail, older woman now walking towards her, one arm outstretched to offer her a warm tea.

Temari took the cup in her hands, holding it close to her chest.

'Because,' the witness said, ambling over to a seat, 'you're not going to like what I have to say.'

* * *

Thank you for reading.


	9. Chapter 9

Oh, wow, thank you so much for the lovely reviews...! They really made my day. Posting this chapter now because I hope to update weekly if I can. I hope it's okay; please feel free to leave feedback if you want.

* * *

If a mistake pushed a person back, then surely the only response was to push against it. A long time ago, that used to mean pushing people away for Gaara. That used to mean safeguarding himself, to prevent more mistakes from happening. The kind of mistakes he used to make were being trustful of others or allowing someone close enough to hurt him. Everything was the opposite way around now.

He stood on the outskirts of a crowd, a dusty building looming before him. Leaning in the shadows, he avoided the stares and remarks, but not the anticipation of getting them.

As shinobi, Gaara knew that he and his siblings had been sheltered. In a village like Suna, there were more ninjas than active missions. He had been lucky in some ways to have been the Kazekage's son. Lucky that he had been thought of as a precious weapon, and not just a dispensable villager. Although it had been for the wrong reasons, there had been times when he _had_ mattered to his family, and to the village of Suna. His relation to the Kazekage had granted him expert training, only the best in everything, and an exclusive choice of missions available to him from a young age.

Now, he stood amongst the men and women who made up the vast majority of Suna's shinobi force. These people had worked hard to get where they were; they had gradually climbed the ladder from D-ranks to the higher tiers, without nepotism granting them a leg up. They were the public; a mix of ranks, these shinobi were an arm of the Kazekage, to be extended in all areas: For internal policing, coalitions with allies and then of course, conquest.

Gaara stepped into their domain, the walls of his mind raised and ready to take a beating. He looked ahead, avoiding all eye contact, pacing towards the sign-up desk where a number of yet-to-be-graduated rookies waited eagerly to sign up for the test to become Genin. The veterans around them basked in the shade granted by Suna's tall buildings, cooling off with drinks and boxed meals, awaiting instructions for their next assignments.

Heads turned, low voices muttered in quick, hushed exchanges, but nobody dared say or do anything loud enough to catch Gaara's full attention. He joined the back of the line, ignoring everyone around him as though blinkered. The shinobi-to-be in front of him bristled, looking over her shoulder and stiffly setting herself right when she realised who was behind her. The only way he knew how to deal with fear was to meet it head on, to stare without wavering and hold his position as stubbornly as he could.

One by one, the crowd diminished, until he was at the desk, the sign-up forms laid out across it. There were various rosters; team-reassignment seemed to be the one that fitted with the kind of thing he was going for. Gaara reached for a pen, dipping the tip in the waiting pot of ink.

'L-Lord Gaara.'

As he raised his eyes to the woman sitting across from him, she tensed all over. A bead of sweat ran down the side of her face and she couldn't hold his gaze to speak to him.

'This is a sign-up tent for members of the regular force.'

'I know,' he said.

He proceeded to print his name into the box, her nervous gestures flickering in his peripherals. She was trying to engage her colleague, who was all but out of his seat and ready to bolt. Then she pushed back her chair, arms stiff by her side.

'Lord Kankuro!' she cried. 'Thank goodness.'

Gaara turned to look behind himself, seeing his brother jogging towards the sign-up tent. His hat was askew, the crow bobbing up and down behind his shoulders. Waving one arm, Kankuro shouted Gaara's name over and over until he was close enough to consider stopping. With a rigid movement, Gaara put his back to his brother. He finished off his signature, steeped in a brew of mortification so deep that he almost felt his cheeks burn up with heat.

'Did you forget about our mission?' Kankuro asked, breathless.

'No...'

'Then what are you doing here?'

Gaara clutched the pen tighter, feeling the weakness of it in his grip. If he wasn't careful, he'd snap it in half. Mindful of that fact, he slapped it down onto the desk, shoulders raised as he stalked away from the tent. Kankuro was on his heels, keeping up even though Gaara made an effort to draw his strides out at a fast pace.

'Where are you going now?' Kankuro complained. 'We have a mission, you know. What were you doing at the sign-up tent?'

In an effort to lose him, Gaara slipped into a narrow alleyway, shown to him by the startled movement of two boys no older than him; they had been lounging with their backs to the wall at either side, enjoying the shade. Gaara could hear Kankuro tripping over himself to follow, and clicking his tongue in frustration.

'Slow down, would you?!' he snapped, biting back a growl.

Kankuro grabbed Gaara by the shoulder, holding a handful of his clothes. They came to a stop at an opening, the thick crowds of the market filtering past. Sheets were hung out to dry overhead, flapping in the gentle breeze, the sharp rays of the sun cut off by a taller building that held the alley in shadow.

Kankuro let go of him then, and when Gaara turned to grace him with an answer, he saw his brother leaning forwards, hands on his knees. The walking and running must have been killing him in the midday heat. Wiping an arm across his forehead, Kankuro took off his hat, running his hands through his hair.

'You're supposed to listen to me, you know,' he said, gesturing to himself. '_Older _brother, remember?'

'I'm joining the regular forces.'

It was better to avoid any preamble. Besides, Gaara thought he'd made it clear that, youngest brother or not, he wasn't going to take orders from...

He stopped the thought before he could finish it.

Kankuro raised his eyebrows, lips parting with muted shock.

'What?' he hissed. 'Why?'

Gaara considered his answer carefully. What were the chances of his siblings finding out what he had done to the watchman? Very likely, if Temari was on the case. She wasn't here, so he could only guess that the mission was going ahead without them. He closed his eyes, concentrating.

'Are you being serious?' Kankuro struggled. 'This isn't some kind of... I mean, after dad... I've been meaning to ask you if –'

He continued to stumble over his words, and Gaara paid no attention. In the end, coming up with an answer was difficult, twice as difficult with his brother babbling away in earshot. It was like every action he'd made since returning to Suna had laid down a net, one beneath his feet that was gathering up under him by the second. Soon enough, Temari would return, knowing what he had done. Then Kankuro would continue to pressure him with questions about his motives, what he was planning. And what if this time, there was no protection for him? He had killed somebody, which wasn't anything new, but the circumstances were different now. The villagers had always chafed under his murderous tendencies, sat back and took it without ever raising a weapon to him outside of an attack.

What if the Kazekage had always been that very thin line that stopped another villager taking his assassination into their own hands?

It was only ever the ANBU or his father's personal assistants who had been sent to kill him, Gaara now realised. The destruction of the Shukaku had likely always been the Kazekage's mission, and his mission alone.

If Temari knew about what he had done by now, and she likely did... why would she want to do anything other than the _right_ thing? Reporting the information, making it known that her brother had, yet again, put an end to the life of an innocent villager.

Who would be there to stop a mob from accumulating then?

Lifting his hand, Gaara activated the sand shunshin, separating himself from Kankuro until he was a whole street away. He pressed back against a wall, the gourd scraping over the stone. Taking a deep breath, he dared to look out from his hiding place. Kankuro was out amongst the crowds, scanning the area with one hand shielding his eyes from the sun. Retreating back into the shade, Gaara geared himself to jump up onto a thin ledge, balancing with a cat-like grace once he'd made the leap until he could ascend further. On the rooftops, after looking down at everything beneath him, he turned to look at the great walls that sealed Suna within the desert.

He could see the dunes mounting the horizon, the burning sun sinking in the sky as the morning bled into a red afternoon. With a leap, he moved forwards, and returned to his second home.

The vast and vacant sands that had made a monster of him in the first place.

* * *

'You'll never guess what –'

'Really?'

Kankuro paused at the doorway to Temari's room, midstride. She didn't turn to look at him, instead busied herself with clearing out her dressing table.

'I think I'm pretty good at guessing,' she said.

Leaning against the frame with one hand, Kankuro watched her collecting up her things and unceremoniously shoving them into the waiting bags on the floor. He decided to keep his news for later, until after she had calmed down. She already had three packs made up on her bed, her belongings stuffed inside.

'What's the rush?' he asked.

'The sooner we move, the better,' she said. 'And you need to find Baki and ask him to elect us for as many missions as possible.'

'Did you find anything out about the missing watchman?'

Temari had her back to him. She was busy scooping a selection of hair ties out of her dresser, one hand still in the drawer as she froze up.

'No,' she said.

It took a moment, but her shoulders relaxed out of their stiff hold. Kankuro noticed how tense she was, but her skill at covering her emotions wasn't lacking. When she angled her face to look behind herself at where he stood, her hair covered over her eyes, but her voice was clear and confident.

'I didn't get anything.'

Reaching deep into the back of the drawer, she dredged up the last few bobby pins and bangles she owned before scooping them into a little pile in her open palm. Kankuro decided it would be best to keep his tongue. She spun to face him, irritated by his loitering more than she would have been usually.

'Are you expecting your puppets to pack themselves?' she snipped. 'Get going.'

Rolling his eyes, Kankuro pushed away from the door frame.

'What about Gaara's things?' he said. 'I saw him earlier, but he –'

'Let _him _figure it out,' she argued. 'I'm too busy to worry about Gaara right now.'

She held her hands out at each side, gesturing to the state of her room. There were still some clothes laid out on the bed to be folded and put away, and she hadn't even started with her weapons and other belongings. Shaking his head, Kankuro walked down the corridor, passing by the circular windows that looked out over the village.

There had only been one witness... if they hadn't seen anything worth listening to, then why would Baki have pointed them in that direction?

Standing in the hallway, he could see Temari's shadow moving over the opposite wall as she paced around her room. He left the corridor, bypassing his own room and deciding to leave the mansion instead. Making sure the Crow was fixed firmly to his back, he wandered through the afternoon warmth to see where his thoughts would take him.

There was no point looking for Gaara. He was good at hiding, especially when he didn't want to be found. Unlike him and Temari, Gaara had built up a better tolerance for Suna's heat, particularly in the parched deserts. If he wanted, he could wander for days; his resourcefulness, and of course the Shukaku, would keep him alive.

Kankuro didn't want to be distrustful of Temari's account of what had happened with the witness, but it was unlike her to return from a mission with no results. Besides, he'd done nothing but waste time all day, and they couldn't afford to fail a task as simple as this one. They had a record to maintain – it wouldn't look good to have something like this tripping them up, especially when they were going to have to fight for their missions from now on.

For so long, they had been handed the best and most challenging assignments without having to lift a finger to obtain them. With their father gone, and the desperation for missions ever on the rise amongst Suna's shinobi, the siblings were going to need everything swinging in their favour to survive.

So why had Gaara even considered breaking away from them to join a new team? It didn't make any sense. It could only end badly.

No... Kankuro was sure, surer of this than anything else: That it _would_ end badly.

It would most definitely end in blood, and in death for whoever drew the short straw on the roster Gaara had signed.


End file.
